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There will be a time and a place for the violence of payback. Patience has never been my virtue, though. Not even in my top five.
There’s no point in trying to rewind time or think too closely about the things I might have done differently. Not at this point. Carter and Mia will make the big decisions from now on. Because on that front, I’m a fucking failure.
All the things I’ve done in my life have been to impress Carter and prove to him he hadn’t made a mistake by appointing me his heir. He has more than a few good years left in him but knowing I’ll shadow, knowing I’ll rise, has been an ambition.
Isabella and I are the same in that respect.
We want to grow within our family’s garden and one day be the one who tends it and helps it expand.
I thought handling this situation myself would not only be a way to prove to Carter that I know what I’m doing but would somehow be the fastest way to take Isabella from purgatory to salvation.
So absolutely fucking wrong.
She says nothing on the ride to site C. Not the apartment I’d dragged her to that night of the club. Shit, less than a week has passed.
The days have been agonizingly long and never ending. It takes us a bit longer to get to the safe house, this time at the back of a Chinese restaurant, with the familiar and mouthwatering scents reaching us the moment we step out of the car.
I walk back around to her side and hold out a hand. Poised for her to take it, and a little surprised when she simply stares at me. When her eyes go wider and darker than before until the brown overtakes any shadow of green.
“This is all my fault.”
At least she’s not crying. There’s no fucking way I’ll be able to handle my shit if she starts to cry.
“No, it’s not your fault. Entirely.” I grab her by the elbows and haul her out of the seat, leaving the car parked haphazardly next to the owner’s sedan before dragging the right key from the keychain in my pocket.
A quick twist of the lock reveals a secondary panel with a keypad and an iris scanner. A few quick beeps, a scan of my eyes, and we’re inside.
I slide my hand along the wall for the switch and flick it up, several halogen lights in the ceiling bursting to life. This safe house is nothing but a single room with only one doorway leading to the bathroom and no kitchen. Not even a bathroom, just a toilet and a sink, and barely enough room for me to turn around. But it’s clean, and there’s less of a chance that Drago knows about this place.
Isabella glances around at the emptiness before she launches herself into my arms. I catch her, the breath whooshing out of me, and the two of us clutch each other.
“It’s going to be okay.” It’s an empty reassurance. One she recognizes and understands, but there might be a small amount of comfort in hearing the words spoken out loud. “I need to show you something, though.”
I push her back a step and take out my gun, checking the safety and the chamber. I empty the bullets out onto my palm before handing the piece off to her.
“You want to show me how to use a gun?” she asks, blinking at me.
“I want to make sure you know what you’re doing so you don’t blow your fingers off or, worse, shoot yourself.”
She’s hesitant to take it from my hand. “Don’t you mean you’re worried I’ll shoot you?”
“I’m hoping you’ll stay behind and let me handle this since it’s going to get messy really quick. But since you won’t, then the least you can do is learn what to do,” I tell her. “This one is pretty easy to handle, a Colt M1911A1. It’s a little heavier than a Smith and Wesson. It’s reliable. And since it’s the only one I have on me, then it’s the one you’re going to learn.”
I point out the different pieces of the gun, from the muzzle to the detachable box magazine.
“This isn’t how I thought my day would be.” She’s pliant as I move her into position, knocking her legs into place and holding her arms out in front of her. The pillow is her target. “Not by a mile.”
“Imagine the target is Drago’s face, and you want to put a bullet right between his eyes. You have to hold steady.” I adjust her again when her arms start to tremble.
“You know I won’t stay in the car.”
“Absolutely.”
“Ricardo…” She trails off, and I jump out of the way, the gun loaded this time, making sure it’s pointed anywhere but at my dick. “This has all been a mistake.”
I lift a brow and ignore the curious tightening in my chest. “Oh? What has been a mistake?”
Not us. Not when we’re in this now, finally on the same page when it comes to the two of us.
